


Drink With Me

by koritsimou



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 11:49:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/861662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koritsimou/pseuds/koritsimou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The vandalised, barely there sticker reads, "Drinking wine and fucking are now encouraged in the library."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drink With Me

**Author's Note:**

> I know I said I didn't see the point in putting anything under 2000 words up on AO3, but this is by far my most popular endeavour on tumblr, so I made an exception. One day I will post E/R that is not established relationship, I promise. I hate that I haven't already.
> 
> Originally posted on my tumblr, where you can find other prompt fills under my [my writing tag](http://asongbirdandanoldhat.tumblr.com/tagged/i-wrote-a-thing).  
> You can blame [this post](http://asongbirdandanoldhat.tumblr.com/post/46163931095/perplexingly-jen-suis-daylighthound-if) and [Marta](http://perplexingly.tumblr.com/) for this, respectively. And if you want to be to blame for my next endeavour, you're more than welcome to [leave me a prompt](http://asongbirdandanoldhat.tumblr.com/ask).
> 
> PS. Marta made good on her promise of art. See the end note for a link.

Enjolras looks up at the sharp clunk of a bottle being placed on the desk before him. Merlot, he notes appreciatively, and actually something he would choose himself, rather than the five euro bottle for which Grantaire would normally spring. He lifts his eyes to the man standing beyond it.

“Good evening,” Grantaire says, casually, but his eyes are lit with a scheme, and Enjolras is wary. It mixes with the guilt he feels at Grantaire’s word choice, suddenly reminded of muttered assurances that he’d be back for dinner, that yes, they would eat together once this week.

“Hey,” Enjolras responds, carefully. “Nice choice.”

“I would have no idea, but I intend to find out,” Grantaire says, resting against the desk.

“Take it back to the flat, and we can find out together. I’ll be done in an hour, maybe less with that incentive,” Enjolras doesn’t promise, he never promises, but he does mean it. He drops his eyes back to his work, twirls his pen through his fingers as he waits for Grantaire’s goodbye.

“Oh, I didn’t realise the wine was magic,” Grantaire gushes, voice full of feigned surprise. “Although that would at least explain the price. If we had a cow, it’d have cost us her. If I pour it out the window, will a vineyard sprout overnight?” Grantaire asks, all easy sarcasm.

Enjolras gives him his softest frown, so Grantaire will know it is not a choice he makes because he wants to, not really. “Grantaire,” he starts.

“I know,” Grantaire cuts him off. “You’re working, your work is important, and you know I love your fervour for changing the world. I would take it home, if I fancied a night of drinking alone ‘til they bodily throw you out of here at closing, but I don’t. And I’m not here to drag you away from,” Grantaire gestures at the mass of papers spread across the desk, “whatever you’re working on at the moment.” Enjolras opens his mouth to tell him, but Grantaire keeps going. “I’m just here to force you to take a break, because I know you didn’t stop for dinner,” he stares at Enjolras accusingly, and Enjolras says nothing. “So you are going to give me this tiny bit of your time, and company, and drink some stupidly expensive wine with me,” Grantaire finishes.

“You’re not allowed to eat or drink in the library,” Enjolras tells him, though it’s not a rule by which he entirely abides. He had made a dinner of a small bag of almonds, not long ago (though Grantaire was right, he didn’t stop to do so).

“Didn’t you see the sign?” Grantaire asks, with an impressively straight face, and Enjolras’ lips quirk and he can feel his face heating a little, because he did see ‘the sign’. He knows Grantaire is referring to one of the standard stickers declaring prohibited library conduct that line the walls and the stacks, the one at the entrance to the particular nook in which Enjolras usually ensconces himself. It has been, not cleverly, but thoroughly vandalised.

“You didn’t,” Enjolras wonders aloud.

“Not me,” Grantaire confirms. “But I heartily agree with the editor.”

Enjolras nods towards the bottle on the desk. “You bought corked.”

“You’re a snob. You don’t like screw-top,” Grantaire explains.

“One, I am not a snob,” Enjolras huffs. “And two, the seal only matters if you’re aging it, so yes, I’m dubious if a restaurant’s offered vintage comes with a screw-top, but that doesn’t apply to anything we’re going to pick up on the weekly shop.”

“Well I didn’t know, because I’m not a snob,” Grantaire excuses himself.

Enjolras crosses his arms. “I hate you.”

“You love me,” Grantaire grins. He picks up the merlot and waves it in front of Enjolras. “I brought you fancy wine.”

“Which we can’t open,” Enjolras points out, ignoring the responsible voice in his head that is still arguing against this idea entirely. “I don’t suppose you thought to bring a corkscrew.”

Grantaire snorts. “Who do you think you’re talking to?”

“You did bring one?” Enjolras asks, impressed. Grantaire isn’t known for his forethought.

Grantaire grins widely. “You think I need a corkscrew to open a bottle of wine?”

“Oh my god,” Enjolras mutters. “It is one thing to _drink_ wine in the library. You are _not_ breaking a bottle open in here. You got me banned from the last one.”

“Calm down, beautiful. Not my plan. I may not know anything about bouquets or aromas, but I know I prefer my wine without glass fragments. And that wasn’t my fault, that’s all on Courfeyrac.”

Enjolras watches Grantaire curiously as he starts to slip off his shoes. His mind flicks to the second suggestion of the edited library sticker and he absolutely does not feel a thrill at the thought. He starts to ask Grantaire what he is doing, when he realises he has only taken off one of his shoes. When Grantaire picks it up off the floor, he does ask, “Okay, what are you doing?”

“Just watch,” Grantaire grins.

He picks up the bottle of wine and slips it into his shoe. Crossing to the wall, he holds the bizarre arrangement on its side and thumps the heel of the shoe (and the bottom of the bottle, there encased) heavily against the wall.

Enjolras’ eyebrows rise as the cork does.

“How did you? Where did you learn to do that?” he asks, surprise and awe mixing in his voice.

Grantaire beams at him and shrugs. “I’m a man of many talents,” he says mysteriously. “Would Monsieur like to taste the wine?” he asks, offering Enjolras the now open bottle.

Enjolras pushes his chair back from the desk and accepts it. Grantaire pushes the papers back, to clear himself a spot to sit on the desk. He rests his feet on the edge of Enjolras’ seat, one on either side of him, as Enjolras takes a sip. Grantaire takes a long swig when the bottle is passed back to him and Enjolras shakes his head disapprovingly, but his face is fond.

The pass the wine back and forth between them, and Grantaire tells him how he has spent his day, and allows him to explain exactly what he has been working on, and why it’s important, and why he’s excited about it.

They’re over two thirds of the way through the bottle, when Grantaire leans heavily on his own knees, ducking his head to Enjolras’ level. He strokes a finger along Enjolras’ jaw, and Enjolras obediently tips his head up for Grantaire to bring their lips together in a kiss. Enjolras’ mouth opens easily at the insistence of Grantaire’s tongue. His hand tightens around the neck of the bottle, the other grips at Grantaire’s denim-clad knee, as Grantaire licks into his mouth, as if chasing every taste of the wine he just drank.

They kiss, tongues dancing against one another, Grantaire’s hand hot on Enjolras’ neck, until Enjolras has to pull away for a breath. When Enjolras huffs out through his nose, Grantaire give him a guilty smile and mutters, “it tastes better from your mouth.”

Enjolras takes a long drink, and passes the bottle back for Grantaire to finish, mind drifting slowly back to the work he still has to finish. Grantaire settles the drained bottle behind him on the desk, and drops his feet to hook them around the legs of Enjolras’ chair. Then he pulls.

The table wobbles dangerously, but the chair gives in and slides across the floor, carrying Enjolras closer. Grantaire pushes himself off the table and onto Enjolras’ lap.

Enjolras only entertains pushing him off for a brief second, and then their lips are crashing back together and Enjolras instead takes advantage of the more equal position, filling one hand with black curls as he steadies Grantaire with the other.

Enjolras indulges in the wet heat of Grantaire’s mouth for minutes that feel like hours. Whenever they break apart, Grantaire peppers Enjolras’ face with kisses, or bites gently at his lips as they share the same breaths, or dips his head to mouth at Enjolras’ neck, and Enjolras sighs, and breathes and smiles. But when Grantaire’s warm, clever hands start slipping under the hem of Enjolras’ shirt, he leans back to frown at the dishevelled man in his lap. He hopes he looks a little less ravaged himself, knows he won’t. “’Taire,” he says, warningly.

Grantaire doesn’t even bother feigning innocence. His eyes are dark, his breathing a little uneven as he reminds Enjolras, “ _Now encouraged_.”

Enjolras drops his head to Grantaire’s shoulder to hide the blush threatening to flood his face. “I haven’t had nearly enough wine to be okay with that,” Enjolras murmurs into Grantaire’s neck.

“Really?” Grantaire’s grin is unseen but undoubtedly wicked. “Because I brought a second bottle.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, lovely ones. Comments and kudos brighten my life, thank you for leaving them if you do.
> 
> For your further enjoyment:  
> [Gorgeous art](http://perplexingly.tumblr.com/post/46362450020/based-on-drink-with-me) by Marta - aka. the only reason anyone's read this.


End file.
